I Pledge Alliegance
by Stars of Artemis
Summary: She was too busy watching what moved in the light to notice the shadow closing in through in the dark. Too busy staring at those absurd cars they drove, thinking how stupid it all was. But thats one thing every spy should know. You're never the only one.
1. Chapter 1

83 miles north-northeast of downtown Las Vegas, near the shores of Groom Lake, Nevada, the night could not have been more silent. The landscape was barren for miles, rolling gently and unpredictably with thick, coarse desert scrub dotting it in uniform as far as the eye could see. The distant mountains were barely visible as black shapes on the velvet blue horizon, the lake just a glimmer of silver in the distance. The only light came from the soft red tint against the southwestern sky were the city lay, and a few scattered stars above. But for them, it was enough.

A black military helicopter moved over the landscape like a shark, passing over the white signs on the land below that warned of deadly military force and private government property. The rudders thundered out into the night, _bum-bum bum-bum bum-bum_, like the heart beat of some great animal, moving in for the kill.

Dark, ominous. Deadly.

It was going to be one wild night.

"United States Nellis Air Force Base requesting ID from Unknown Aircraft, Unknown Aircraft, do you copy?"

Inside the chopper, a large, _powerfully _built, dark man sitting beside the pilot gave him a glance. "Now we find out if this was all really worth it." he told him, grabbing a radio. "This is 4500x, patrol squadron north, requesting access to air space."

There was a pause on the other end, static filling the inside of the chopper that was silent save for the muted thuds of the propellers.

"4500x, you have permission to reenter airspace. Sorry for the delay. Must be a glitch or something."

"Copy that." said the black man, and put the radio back in the receiver. "Nice timing, Tex." he called over his shoulder. In the back of the helicopter, a man sat on the floor, the bright light of his computer screen illuminating him sharply as he looked up (or seemed to look up- there was a great black helmet covering his face) and gave the man a thumbs up. All around him, the others blended into the shadows as they moved around, cocking guns and rechecking equipment and cable lines.

One of them paused, masked gaze turned out of the open door and onto the dark red edge of the lower horizon. A second, taller figure came behind the first, holding on to the handles above the frame to keep balanced.

"Like the sky's on fire." the first said.

"Sin City." muttered the figure behind it.

The large man in the front seat took a deep, heavy breath. "Let's do this." He said in his deep voice, looking back out the windshield and hoisting his rifle with one hand while flicking an infrared visor down with the other.

The chopper veered sharply and continued on its dark path, careful to stay away from any other aircraft orbiting the skies- though there seemed to be none, other than a stray jet that blasted off, skirting along the edges of the area known to many pilots in Nevada as "The Container."

As the chopper began to approach one of the long, flat buildings built in the center of the base, the man who had spoken over the radio reached a hand up to his ear, pressing a thin button on a black earpiece that looked like a Bluetooth from the future. A tiny blue light flickered on it in the corner.

"Alright people." he said, looking out the window. "You know the drill. We're only going to have a few seconds to do this, and do this quietly. If I hear so much as a thud, I will personally whoop your ass the first chance I get once we're all in prison. Or I'll toss you behind me and get Tian here to pick me up while security is distracted with you. Understand?"

There was a general mumble of approval from the other ends; the Asian pilot next to him grinned.

"Okay." he said. "We're nearing the building. You know the drill." And with that, he cocked his rifle, swung the strap over his head, strapping it to his back, and lifted his own helmet up and over his head, his visor hardening from light yellow to totally reflective. "Operation NightHawk is a go."

The helicopter approached the building, and one figure from the chopper stepped onto the edge of the door with what looked like a video camera in his hand. But when he pressed a button, a red line shot through the lens, reflecting all the way down to the security camera that lay well-concealed on the other side of the base. Pre-programmed images, like the rolling film in a movie theatre, bounced through the light and projected into the camera- an image of a totally blank building with a deserted rooftop, and once a high frequency channeling button was hit on the man's device, the same image started looping through the camera, set for a certain amount of time.

The man shut off the device. "We have fifteen minutes." he said in a voice that sounded mechanical over the com link.

"Copy." rumbled the black man from before.

The helicopter now veered sharply to the left, thudding over the narrow white building set in the middle of the guarded facility. "Go."

A long, black rope dropped down from the chopper, and as it passed over the building, a dark figure grasped the rope and slid down it like they had no fear of friction burns, sheltered by their gloves. Followed by another. And another. And another.

Ten figures dressed totally in black slid down the rope just a few feet apart from each other, landing in a crouch or a roll on the roof, silent as the night, or else covered up by the sound of the chopper. When the last figure had dropped down onto the roof, just inches from the ledge as the helicopter passed over, it veered left, the rope sliding back up into it as it went, before vanishing into the darkness.

"Nice landing." rumbled the large man from over the com link. Then he turned, holding his rifle with one hand, and made a kind of hand gesture at the roof with the other.

Another figure stepped forward, and pulled out something small and thin- a marker- from a pouch strapped onto the belt at his side. He uncapped it, and drew a circle on the top of the roof. A circle that didn't seem to show up. Then he flipped the marker and twisted the end- a tiny black light built into the back offered a small, feeble purple light- revealing a pale circle drawn onto the rooftop.

He twisted the light off, then took out something else- it looked like a can opener, almost- and set it onto the rooftop where the circle was. Then he hit a switch.

The thing hummed to life, and by the looks of metal shavings that were being thrown up, seemed to be cutting into the roof, but it was just so _quiet_.

"How does it do that?" asked a voice- probably from the figure that was leaning over the man's shoulder, wielding a long, thin and lethal-looking rifle.

"Tracer follows the ions in the ink." he said shortly, as the machine continued to cut, "And follows them quietly." The was a loud click and a thud as the machine stopped completing the circle. "Best thing the CIA made yet." he added, as he carefully maneuvered the circle of panel cut out of the hole and onto the roof, applying something to the edges of it.

"Move out." rumbled the man from earlier.

A second rope was fastened to the roof by some kind of claw, and the team slid down it again one by one through the hole in the roof. It was like another world, as they descended from the dark, starry sky to the blinding fluorescent underworld of the lab.

The first figure, slim and powerfully built, twisted away from the rope and landed a few feet away on one knee, then cautiously raised his head.

No one was in the lab.

The figure straightened as more people slid down the rope behind it, walking a few feet away from the group. The room was exceptionally barren- white floor, white walls, white ceiling- like being in an asylum. All that was present were three long tables set up in the center space, a massive shelf that went from one wall to the other stocked with scientific equipment, and several things lying on the tables- things that the public eyes had never- and probably _would _never- see.

"No cameras?" asked the black man again, surprise in his tone detectable even over the com link.

"Negative." responded the man who had had the computer. "Apparently all technology fizzes out in this room…we're lucky our com links are air-wave frequency and powered by something other than electricity, or they'd probably be fried now, too."

"Interesting." the man rumbled. "No wonder the Director was worried about this place."

"The entire general public is worried about this place." said another voice- sarcastic and feminine- from the figure who was inspecting the rounds in her thin rifle.

"True." admitted the computer boy.

Suddenly, the dark figure who had landed down first from the rope stood and removed his helmet. _Her _helmet.

"Damn it, King, what the _hell _do you think you're doing?" thundered the black man, as the woman's long black hair fell down past her shoulders.

She turned to stare at him with sharp blue eyes that pierced out from under her bangs. "No cameras." she pointed out. "Just like Tex said."

The man who had held the laptop also removed his helmet. "She's right." Martin "Tex" Carter replied. "But I wasn't implying that-"

"I can't think in there." the woman complained. "My head is too cramped."

The black man too, removed his helmet, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "Graduate at only twenty four, top of your class. Jump out of a moving helicopter into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean? Fine. But put a helmet on her head…"

"I'm with Liberty." said the woman with the rifle, removing hers as well. "It's hot in there. Nevada reaches an average of a hundred and six degrees in the summer. It's only August. Give us a break, Jax."

The tall man, Jax, rolled his eyes again. "Whatever. Just get those samples from the radioactive cabinet." he ordered three of the figures behind him, who still had their helmets on.

"Yes, sir." the replied, and hustled over to one of the far tables, as silent as street cats.

"I'm still surprised we got in alright." the woman with the rifle and the blonde hair called, as she carefully scanned the walls for any other sign of surveillance. "You'd think they'd keep tighter security around the most top secret military base in America."

"Top secret military base in the _world_." corrected Tex, pulling what looked like a mini camcorder out of one of his pockets around his belt. "One of them, anyways."

"I think we were pretty discrete." argued another man, one with brown hair, who had removed his helmet as well. The black light marker and the tool that had cut the whole in the roof were strapped at his belt.

The blonde snorted. "A random helicopter that just happens to match the tail of one of the patrol guards isn't exactly subtle…they should have noticed it just popped out of nowhere. What does this say for our public security?"

"Point." piped up Liberty, watching with a hand on her hip as their technician began to wander towards the tables.

"I hacked their network." offered Tex. "Put in an extra chopper for the patrol tonight. Besides, no one really cares on Christmas. The tower is probably more concerned about getting home sometime at four o'clock this morning…not that I'm complaining." he offered a quick grin as he zoomed his camera in on something on one of the tables. "Drop into Area 51? Best present ever."

"For you." snapped the blonde, the man, and Liberty all at once.

"Do you know how many conspiracies are flung around this place?" asked Tex, ignoring all of them. "The Roswell UFO…Majestic Twelve…Aurora Project…"

"All myths." snapped the blonde. "Which is what you will be if you don't-"

"Lay off, Grayson." warned Jax. "We have ten minutes, six samples, and I'd personally like to get out of here before our time is out."

Grayson Bourne offered a nod. Stressing out on missions wasn't unusual for her- outside of this place, she never got on Tex for a thing.

"Hey, Tex," called the marker-man, "What are you doing?"

The techie shrugged, now several yards away from them and peering and random pieces of equipment on the tables. "Nothing. Just looking."

"Get back here, Tex." growled Jax. "We are _not _screwing this one up."

"Roger." Tex responded, and retreated. "Did you see that machine thing over there?"

"No, and I don't want to." Jax growled.

"Oh, that's right." Liberty recalled, grinning. "I forgot you had this thing for aliens."

The massive man glared down at her, both burly arms clutching his rifle threateningly.

Okay, maybe _thing _wasn't the right word. _Tex _had a thing for aliens. Jax had…extraterrestrial phobia. Yeah, that one fit.

"Didn't he freak out when his interns pranked him last April by filling his locker with a fake dead alien?" Tex asked, one of his eyes peering through his lens, the other squinting shut. He yelped, however, when Jax reached over and slapped him upside the head, sending his reddish hair flying.

"Just because my grandmamma raised me to be nice," warned Jax, "and not to hit girls, that doesn't make you an exception, kid."

Liberty winced at the blow to the tech master's manhood, but marker-man just laughed and punched Jax's shoulder good naturedly, causing the giant man to stagger a bit.

"Seesh, Milo." he muttered, rubbing his shoulder.

Milo rolled his sea-green eyes. Libby began to wander off in the direction Tex had mentioned the machine being in.

"Six minutes!" she heard Jax warn over her shoulder.

She prowled carefully down the tables, looking at a giant telescope, a strange ball filled with gears, and what looked like a laser gun from Star Wars. And then she saw it.

"Tex," Liberty threw back, and glanced up to make sure she had his attention. "Is this the machine thing you were talking about?" she asked, pointing at it on the table.

"Yeah, that's it." replied the man. "Creepy, isn't it?"

Liberty looked down at the circular shaped thing, which had a fray of wires and circuitry hanging off one end, as if it had been severed. Liberty frowned and leaned in closer, staring at the two dark, glassy slits on the thing's front.

"It looks…like it has…_eyes_…"

"Libby!" warned Jax.

Liberty jerked up in attention, and her hair swept forward, dangerously close to the twisted metal.

_WRAA! WRAA! WRAA!_

Everyone in the room flinched, reaching for weapons blindly as an alarm began screeching somewhere down the hall of the facility, and the seamless doors in the wall suddenly were barricaded shut as lasers activated from seemingly nowhere on the ceiling, walls and floor to block of the entrance in burning, acid green light. Sirens were screeching down the halls, rebounding off the sterile white walls and ringing in the super spies' ears.

"Shit!" roared Milo, and aimed his slug at the nearest speaker in the wall.

_Pchew!_

The wailing suddenly quieted, now only echoing outside the room.

"What the fuck was that for!" roared Jax, already reaching behind him for his rope and throwing it up at the ceiling, were the magnetic hold kept it there more securely than any knot ever could have.

"They already know we're here, they're coming!" yelled Milo, gesturing at the doorway while the others hurriedly stowed test tubes and equipment in their packs and belts. "At least now we can think!"

"Move!" thundered Jax, ignoring Milo as a sound like thunder began to reach them under the high-pitched wailing of the sirens. Immediately, slim black figures began to grab the rope and ascended with skill only learned in CIA training camps, helped on by the slim knots and workable footholds in the advanced rope fabric.

Its was government property, after all.

Liberty forced her helmet back on her head with one hand, jerking away from the table and reaching the ladder last, as Jax began to climb. "Move it, Xena!" he thundered over the link and the sudden sound of helicopter rudders above, switching to code names in case they were hacked.

The doors burst open.

Liberty whirled around, one hand wrapped around the rope, the other gathering what slack was left behind. Three tall, large guards in dark masks like hers stared at her, large rifles drawn. Liberty stared at the one closest, seeing herself reflected in his yellow visor. There came a wild jerk as the rope began to be wheeled in mechanically from Jax above on the roof.

Liberty clung on in a vice-like grip as the room seemed to be yanked downwards and vanished from view, taking the guards, the bleached white room, and all its secrets with it.

Operation NightHawk had failed.


	2. The Scattering

"_Disbanded?"_

Across the desk, Jenna Sheppard closed the in-case report and tossed it down onto the desk with a loud _thwap_! "Considering all else that has happened, you're damn lucky you're not all getting fired." she said, looking up at a shell-shocked Liberty. "The operation was blown. The mission failed. Hell, forget _fired_, you're lucky you didn't get killed, or worse- _federal prison_."

An incarcerated spy caught breaking in a federal building is the last thing a country wants, especially when that spy is their _own_.

Liberty straightened under the eye of her boss, who was intimidating when she rose out of her chair to her full height- five ten in heels. "The operation was a failure." she argued, "but not by us. There's no reason to disband the Crusaders."

"Liberty, you set the alarm off in Area 51." Jenna growled, striding to the opposite side of the room to the fax machine. A piece of paper was being printed there now. "I've been getting calls all week. Hell, they even wanted us to investigate- a break-in that _we _staged. I've been falsifying reports all week. Do you have any idea how risky this is? How _embarrassing_?"

Liberty gritted her teeth. "I didn't set off that alarm."

Jenna turned around and stared at her. "I got the full report from agent Jaxon." she told the younger woman. "You touched that robot-head thing and set off the alarm."

"I know everyone says that," argued Liberty, "But I didn't touch it! I would know if I did!"

Jenna just shook her head. "You didn't have to notice it. I heard you were out of your helmet, Liberty- that's reason enough to break this up, and I know you weren't the only one. What if someone had walked in then? What if you had been caught? Your faces would have been on every monitor in this building by six yesterday morning."

Liberty wasn't backing down yet. "But I didn't-"

Jenna raised a hand, and damn her training, Liberty's mouth shut with a snap. "I've been pretty lax with regulations around the Crusaders." Jenna said. "You're team had managed to pull off five major black ops and missions around the world. You're our elite team. And that's why I let you guys do pretty much whatever you want….but that also seems to have been my biggest mistake."

Liberty's eyes widened. Realizing that Jenna always meant what she said, and that this was for real, she swallowed her dread down, taking a steady breath. "What is going to happen to us?" she asked quietly.

"Jax will go as a guard to the Israeli president. Carey and Tucker already have a job out in the Rocky Mountains testing sniper rifles and dealing arms with British Intelligence. Tian will go the Nevada desert to instruct NEST chopper pilots in combat situations and survival tactics, Tex is going to the Basement. The other members there weren't on your team, therefore are not affected." She looked down and flipped open a file briefly. "And I'm sending Milo and Grayson out to the Middle East to deal with certain…classified matters."

Liberty swallowed. "And me?"

Jenna looked up and locked gazes with the young spy, blue eyes battling against blue. "You'll be tailing a group that holds a certain amount of concern here in D.C. Alone."

The blow was like a battering ram slamming into her pride and crumpling it into a thousand pieces, but Liberty only stared at the wall over Jenna's head and said in a dead voice, "Yes ma'am."

Jenna suddenly sighed and rubbed her face, looking much older than the woman she looked (and pretended) to be. It was so unusual that Liberty actually felt her resolve waver slightly, but still held true. "You're still so young, Liberty." the woman murmured into her hand, eyes closed. "Only twenty-four, when usually we recruit at twenty-nine…" she stared off into the distance, one hand on her face, before seeming to come back to herself halfway and looking back down at the reports on her desk.

"Your tailing mission is classified and not to be shared with anyone else. Understood?"

Liberty nodded stiffly, glancing down at the report and back up again.

Jenna sighed again. "Dismissed." she murmured.

Liberty turned sharply and crossed the room, her long black hair swaying behind her, but paused as the door, looking back. Sensing her presence, Jenna looked up.

"I know what you think," she said, "but I didn't touch that thing. And I definitely didn't set off the alarm."

"Liberty-"

"I didn't-!"

"It's _over_." the director of the CIA said, raising her head and looking again like a warrior-goddess. "I'm sorry…but it's over."


	3. Morning Coffee

The suspects in question were sitting in a large group at the back of a café, sitting around a large table and talking as easily as if they had been born there. They were drinking out of some large black canteen a powerfully-set biker chic was passing around. They were all looking occasionally at some large papers- probably maps- spread across the combined tables.

And only two of them were human.

Not that she knew that. Not yet, anyways.

Liberty King calmly pretended to read the newspaper folded in front of her while watching the group behind her wide-rimmed sunglasses. Her finger traced idle circles on the rim of a white ceramic coffee mug that a distracted waitress had brought- the same waitress that was running around trying to get the orders of the suspects at the large table.

Liberty's eyes flickered back down to the paper, just for show. She was suddenly very conscious that this job was dangerous- Jenna had said it would probably be the most challenging tail she ever did before she left.

Even though it was just a _tail_, for Christ's sake.

But then again- years of CIA training had taught her that tailing a person can be the most useful, and the most critical part of any case. You can figure out everywhere a person goes and where their base is and what country they plan to bomb next, or you can get discovered and then the whole operation is blown before it hardly began.

And Liberty did _so _not need that right now. Not after what happened a week ago. She was already in jeopardy just by being here, this close.

"Try not to get too close to them." Jenna had said. "In fact, the farther away you are, the better. Just keep them in sight, and make sure they don't so anything suspicious."

"So, who exactly are they?" Liberty had wondered, scanning over the files of the people Jenna had dumped in her lap. "Terrorists? Rogue agents?"

"Americans." Jenna corrected. "Good ones. Just…accident prone, and no agency needs that right now. Trust me, the less you know on this, the better."

That was the most she had gotten out of this case…period.

So Liberty was using every ounce of skill she had on this one. No job occupations, no profiles, nothing. All she knew were the names of each of the subjects in question, and that the blonde man that was spreading the maps was an army major and the leader of the illusive NEST- she'd have to call Tian for more on the subject.

As for the others, all she had were names.

The tall one next to major William Lennox was called Alexander Prime. The giant muscle builder next to the biker chick was called Aaron Hide, and the biker chick herself was Allison "Crow" Mia, though she was referred to as Mia. Liberty guessed the nickname came from the loud way she laughed, or the fact that her hair was a deep, shiny black. There was also another mechanic there- a burly man with a short grey beard that was glaring at the body builder with open hostility. And then there were the two females- one a beautiful, slim woman with long hair- Rachel Calisto, who went by R.C.

But it was the other woman that had Liberty a little confused.

She was a girl- and looked no more than seventeen. She was very pretty, with long, straight dark hair and deep emerald eyes, but what Liberty couldn't figure out was why she was there. It looked like some kind of army briefing or plan. So why was a _teenager _involved?

Liberty frowned down at her coffee. It was still steaming slightly, but she didn't feel like drinking it. She was still trying to figure out why she was here.

If these people were good Americans, then why the hell was she following them? Couldn't they be trusted? And why was Jenna so touchy about giving information out on this case?

Good Americans pay all their taxes and get good retirements and have big, pretty houses with white picket fence in the middle of Suburbia. _Good Americans _drive worn, stupid, gas-guzzling cars and work on their own gardens and mow their own lawns. _Good Americans _are why she joined the agency in the first place.

Good Americans don't get tailed by the CIA whenever they come to the capital.

Things just weren't adding up. If Jenna had suspected they were in the middle of some operation and wanted one of the Academy's brightest stars to figure it out, Liberty would have been all over that. But Jenna had strictly told her to keep her distance, to not even say anything remotely suspicious around these people or make a phone call near them, and not to even _attempt _to hack their calls.

"Trust me," she had said, "that would mean immediate failure of this operation. Just…try to lay low, and keep an eye on them, okay?"

_Yeah, sure, whatever._

Liberty finally took a sullen sip of coffee, and noted that the wrestler and the mechanic were now engaged in an arm wrestling match.

She should be on top-secret missions in the middle of East Africa by now. She should be dealing with terrorists, with corrupt government conspiracies, with danger and life-threatening situations and the whole shebang. That was what she had been trained for. That was where she should have been- with Milo and Grayson and the others.

Liberty glared at the wall from behind her sunglasses and refrained from sulking lower in her seat to attract attention to herself. She hadn't seen her best friends once since Operation NightHawk. Being a spy typically did that to people- you were lucky if you got to retain just one contact for your entire lifetime, let alone two friends, but they were a team. That Jenna had split them up made no sense.

Because whatever she said, whatever anyone else thought, Liberty did _not _set off that god damned alarm. She never touched that robot-thingy. It had freaked her out a bit way too much to do that, not to mention she wasn't a fucking idiot. Even though people seemed to expect that of her at the CIA. Oh! Hey! Rookie!

Screw them. Screw them all.

Liberty's sharpened senses immediately picked up when three more people entered the shop- a tall, dark lieutenant, a second dark man that was even taller than the first, and an exceptionally good looking twenty-year-old. One of the ditzy waitresses on staff lifted a hand to her mouth and giggled at him, a woman with short ginger hair and cat-like green eyes.

Liberty had to keep from laughing when the boy blatantly ignored her. She could see why, when he sat next to the beautiful girl and glanced at her carefully, as if making sure she hadn't gotten into trouble while he was gone.

The girl was too busy watching the end of the wrestling match to notice.

They stayed like that for about ten minutes, the boy watching everyone in the room carefully, even her. Liberty made sure to keep her eyes down. She would have to watch out for that one- he seemed unusually perceptive.

No wonder Jenna had said to keep a low profile.

Liberty sighed and rubbed the side of her head. She knew she would hate to have a tail. To feel like she couldn't go where she wanted to do, like there were invisible chains restricting her every move…she suppressed a shudder.

The CIA spy couldn't help but sympathize with these people.

Unless Jenna was wrong, and they were in fact planning some kind of heist on the U.S. Then she would take them down one by one. No one messed with Liberty's country or jeopardized its freedom. _No one._

She snapped to attention, carefully turning to the comics in the paper as she watched the whole group rise and make their way towards the exit, moving as if they were used to careful military coordination.

That was interesting.

Once they had gone, Liberty waited for five seconds, then rose as well. She left a few dollars on the table for the busy waitress, and made her way towards the exit, weaving carefully around crowds and tables of military personnel- it was a government café- after all. She tucked her newspaper under her arm and reach up to pull off her sunglasses, revealing her ice colored eyes, and pulled her long black hair out of it's bun and out of its hat. Her bangs fell higher than they usually did, seeing as she had made her hair wavy today as part of her disguise. She ripped off the cheap scarf as well.

The sunglasses and scarf went in the newspaper, and the paper went in the trash.

"Have a good day, Miss Anderson." called the host at the stand.

Liberty smiled and pushed open the door, out into the bright sunlight of the city. The game may have just begun, but she already felt like she was in the stakeout stage. The boring stage.

Traffic was light. Thankfully for Liberty, the suspect's cars were all so outrageous- ranging from a silver corvette to a flaming _semi_, that it wasn't too difficult to keep track of them when they were on the road.

"Excuse me, ma'am." said a police officer as he pushed passed her.

Liberty smiled absently as she concentrated on what she _did _know in her head. She had thought she was being punished by being set as a tail- right in the middle of freaking D.C, the CIA's playground. That Jenna had implied this was a top secret mission was a total surprise, but it was so boring. She had almost no info on her suspects, which meant they were probably extremely high up in the military chain- because they were obviously military- and they all had shockingly blue eyes, even one of the dark soldiers. Except for the girl.

Plus they were all fit, with a CIA agent on their tails, so they were obviously dangerous.

If only she had known how much so.


End file.
